


Appreciate Your Scars

by Ilkwrdthngsdntjudge



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bodyguard, Cute, Fights, Fluff, Gun fights, Guns, Happy Ending, M/M, Marriage, Multi, Royalty, prince x bodyguard, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26612635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ilkwrdthngsdntjudge/pseuds/Ilkwrdthngsdntjudge
Summary: James, a hired bodyguard, learns to appreciate all the scars he’s accumulated over the years, leading him to this very moment.(An English assessment of mine. Tell me what you think!)
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 3
Collections: Really Random One Shot Collection





	Appreciate Your Scars

The first scar that I have is old. It’s stupid, hardly worth talking about. But it was a constant source of worry for those who’d seen it. Yeah, it was huge. Ran across my chest diagonally, the flesh a few shades lighter that my original skin tone. But it wasn’t really a painful memory.

I had been new to the whole bodyguard thing. A new recruit. I had the task of protecting a senator that was running for president. While I was on duty though, I realised that the senator was strange. She was always acting fidgety, always avoiding eye contact in a way a guilty person would. So I did my research. Asked too many questions. The wrong people found about my curiosity and I was ambushed. I got out, only because those pricks underestimated his skill. One of the dipsh*ts had an assembly of knives that he used as weapons against me. A freaking knife in a gun fight. Knife guy managed to slash me across the chest but I incapacitated him before he could do anymore damage. Asshole.

I exposed the senator and was promoted to a senior bodyguard. All in the span of six months. Not too shabby.

The second scar that I have is a little more… brutal. It would get the same amount of worry from people who didn’t know the story. Hard to find a person who doesn’t know the story behind the bullet hole in my shoulder.

It was all over the news. A failed terrorist attack that was aimed at the American President, who I was guarding. If you were going to assassinate someone, do it stealthily for chrissakes. Point-FUCKING-blank, the ass tried to shoot the President from barely ten metres away. The glint of the gun spurred me into action, running towards the President and twisting her around so that the bullet would hit me instead of her. Good thing the guy was a good shot. The bullet that was aiming for the President’s head hit my shoulder, jamming into the bone. The President was around shoulder-height for me. If the guy was a bad shot, I might have had to deal with a bad lung or a permanent nap-time.

I was brought to the nearest hospital and was rewarded with a medal. I honestly didn’t remember _exactly_ what was said, but I couldn’t complain. I got a hell of a lot more girls.

The third scar is really… sad. Depressing. It was a nick that cut into my left eyebrow. It was very visible, but not really worrying for others. Many people had that kind of scar, but not the same circumstances as I did.

I had a new assignment, as well as a new asset. Royalty from Britain. A prince. The guy, Archie, was twenty-seven, three years younger than I was. We were stationed in a safe-house in downtown Manhattan. My girlfriend had been with us. The three of us were living together, Archie, Jalena and I. Archie was nice. He was outgoing, not fussy, and funny. Jalena was nice to him at first, and I’d trust her to take care of the prince whenever I left to report. But one day, I came home to Archie with a large bruise and Jalena screaming at him. She was holding a half-empty bottle of wine, and that’s when I realised what happened.

There was a lot of screaming and fighting that happened that night. I was so _mad_ and I broke it off with her, but she retaliated with a broken bottle of wine, nicking my eyebrow and flooding my eye with blood. She had gaped in surprise and ran off, the bitch. How could she have hurt such a nice guy like Archie?

The fourth scar was probably my worst, while simultaneously being my most treasured mark. It was a hairline fracture, just above my ear. It was always mistaken to be some sort of hairstyle.

Archie and I were taken by surprise on the way to the President’s well-guarded suite in midtown New York. A group of men from the same terrorist group the assassin came from had attacked our car, throwing a couple of grenades under it and flipping it over multiple times. Archie had crawled out of the car and gotten me out, suffering from his own injuries. We were approached by the group, and we had to buy time for the back-up to get there. The group hadn’t bothered to negotiate, though. They opened fire, and Archie had pushed me out of the way. I landed roughly, my head suddenly pounding in pain. I had rushed towards Archie, relief pounding through his veins after he gave me a weak, albeit bloody, smile. In a tired stupor, Archie pulled me down, and I blubbered three very important words in Archie’s ear.

We both made it out alive. Barely. Archie had to go to hospital because of the concerning amount of blood he’d lost. But we were alive, and that’s all that mattered.

And now, standing here, staring into Archie’s eyes, I appreciated all my scars.

“I will always love, honour and cherish you. Everything about you. Your flaws, your weaknesses, your scars. Everything. Even if I’ve told you a million times that the toilet paper goes on the toilet paper holder differently.”

I laughed along with the crowd, my eyes crinkling with joy.

I was barely listening to the priest’s droning. All I heard was Archie’s “I do.” Tears filled his eyes as I gave my love a gleeful smile.

“I do.”


End file.
